See her where She sits, in the glow of the sun-bright air, With wing half poised, and talons bleeding, And kindling eye, as if her prey Had suddenly been snatched away, While she was tearing it and feeding. 'above the dark torrent, above the bright stream The voice may be heard Of the thunderer's bird Calling out to her god in a clear, wild scream, AS she mounts to his throne, and unfolds in his beam; While her young are laid out in his rich, red blaze.